


Blind and Reaching Out

by strikeyourcolors



Series: Control(led) Issues [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Blindfolds, Cock Rings, Consensual Kink, M/M, Mental Instability, Oral Sex, Rimming, Self-Medication, Sex Toys, Teasing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikeyourcolors/pseuds/strikeyourcolors
Summary: Jason goes to extremes to make himself better for Dick. He makes himself worse. Dick tries to fix it.  Dick is clearly in over his head and they're about to end up back where the relationship started. If they're making progress, it definitely feels like they're going in reverse.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You know how I said the parts of the story will be alternating? This is definitely plot heavy and it deals with darker subject matter than the previous two. Please mind the tags! Self-medication is a dominant theme through the first half of the story. 
> 
> ...I'm honestly looking for a resolution for these two. How should they end up? I love your reviews and suggestions and am definitely taking them into account. Part 6 is written and I'm stumped after that. I'm also trying to get back to a weekly update schedule instead of bi-weekly.
> 
> P.S. - This might not make a lot of sense if you haven't read the first two installments of this series.

Dick thinks things are starting to go better with Jason, so of course that's when things get worse. There are fewer notes left for him and the coding Jason uses in them is sloppy and hard to follow. There are no more phone calls and Dick can't coax Jason into hanging out, or even to get within ten feet of him. 

Red Hood running from Nightwing wouldn't be uncommon to anyone who saw the exchange, but it makes Dick concerned because Jason never runs from a fight. Jason has never backed down from him before. Red Hood's reputation starts to slide as well. He's moody, but that's always been mentioned. Moodier than usual, exhausted, willing to hand more work off to his lieutenants and far, far more vicious than he used to be even if he still doesn't have the reputation of killer that he had in Gotham. 

Rumor has it that Red Hood is sampling the products he has his dealers sell. Nightwing doesn't believe it. 

“Hood,” He greets one night when he sees Jason's dark mop of curled hair on the other side of a roof. It's near a diner they both frequent and a helpful waitress had let him know his friend was in there for some soup. As though all masks in a city are friends. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me.” He puts his hand on Jason's shoulder. 

Which is how he learns that chicken noodle soup is good for what ails you only when it isn't causing burns to your face and neck, and that the noodles hold heat the longest and therefore hurt the most. 

Two nights later, that incident still smarting physically and emotionally, he finds Jason huddled over a garbage can and shuddering violently. Dick thinks it might be a trap, but always there is something in him that wants to help Jason. That wants to reach out to him no matter the circumstances. “I'm not here to fight,” He says, the words an odd echo of that first night he approached his brother in Bludhaven. 

It's not a trap, but it leads to a fight. Hood attacked, Nightwing defends and argues and tries to knock some sense into his foe without actually hurting him. There's no reason in him, and his moves are sloppy, but he's still dangerous. That's the night Dick gets a dropkick to the ribcage that is definitely a move Robin learned but hurts a hell of a lot less with pixie boots versus the giant, heavy combat style of shoe Jason wears now. 

Dick is throwing in the towel, he decides as he tries on a bed of packages of frozen vegetables because he's run out of ice packs. It might sting a little more than it did before because now he thought he and Jason were making progress, but he'll get through it. It's just like Barbara said. He doesn't think with his head. He thinks with his heart and...well another kind of head. 

And so by giving up, Dick Grayson receives a bone thrown to him by the universe. The window he crashes into a week later turns out to belong to Red Hood, who is fortunately not in residence when Nightwing comes tumbling into an abandoned apartment, through a false wall, and lands in his kitchen.

He knows it's Jason's in a weird kind of way. There are the dog-eared paperbacks and he knows Jason's writing. There's a helmet that Dick doesn't touch because he doesn't know if it's rigged to explode or if it's simply a back up. The ratty backpack Jason moves around with is in the corner. Dumb luck indeed. 

He shakes himself off and intends to simply leave quietly, as though the Nightwing-shaped hole in the wall won't be a dead give away of what happened. But as he tries to tidy up the mess he unintentionally made he comes across some pills. A lot of pills, actually. They're not something he recognizes right off and he can't imagine what they'd be doing in Jason's apartment. They're divided out by type, and Dick grabs one of each, tucking them into a pouch in his costume before he leaves again. He doesn't want to know what nasty tricks Jason has for him here. 

“Baby bird,” He says when he's back in his apartment and has a video screen pulled up. Tim is sitting in the cave, domino still on, looking like he's had a good night. Dick silently vows to go see him again soon. He'd invite him over but, problems being what they were, it was probably safer to keep Tim elsewhere. “I need some substance analysis. Pills. Can you do it remotely?”

It's a new trick in his suit, similar to the one Batman had. Apply a substance to his fingertips on special gloves, have a computer read out what chemical compounds were involved. Dick rarely found a need to use it, enough that he wasn't even certain how to run the program any more. 

Tim knows this. Tim snorts at him, shaking his head fondly at Dick's ineptitude with this brand of technology. “Send me an image of the pills first,” Tim requests. “Then wet them enough that they start to dissolve. Just water, and keep a dry piece in case the water erodes it to much.” 

“You're so smart,” Dick praises and means it. They'd be lost within Tim. He'd be lost without Tim who doesn't ask painful questions and just wants to help. “How're things in Gotham?” He asks as he obeys instructions, sending Tim an image of the types of pills before he sets to dampen each in turn. 

“Quiet,” Tim says. “I haven't been in town all that much to be honest with you.” And he tells Dick about some Titans adventures and even a little about his real life. About school, about his friends. Dick likes hearing those stories the best, even if they come while his younger brother is running chemical analysis on mystery drugs he found in the apartment of a guy who tried to murder him. 

“Where did you get these?” Tim says after nearly an hour. 

“Are they that interesting?” Dick counters, turning himself right side up from where he'd been hanging upside down off the couch. 

Tim snorts. “Anything but, actually. Everything's legal. Controlled, but legal with a prescription. Either you have a very weird addict or you raided a mental health clinic.” 

Dick finds a notepad. He's going to forget everything Tim says. Tim has the tendency to report quickly. “Lay it on me, baby bird.” 

“Cloneazepam,” Tim says first. “Used to treat seizure or panic disorders. Quetiapine, which is used in treatment for depression, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia. There's a couple of fast-acting benzodiazepines. Tranquilizers. Clorazepate and midazolam. Any of this mean anything to you, Dick?”

Dick is frantically scribbling down the names, working phonetically. He can look them up to correct the spellings later. “They're all for treating anxiety,” He replies. He was lucky to catch that much. 

“More than just anxiety. Crippling anxiety. Panic disorders. Post traumatic stress disorder. Please tell me you found these in a clinic.” Dick's silence to Tim's question is probably telling enough. Tim sighs. “Some of them have a recreational use but all together I doubt that's the case. This wouldn't have anything to do with that file B has, would it?”

“What file?” Dick questions, because it really is the first he's hearing about it. 

“The file of potential treatment plans for...for you know.” Tim can't say it. Tim's gaze shifts away from the camera and Dick wants to hold him. Wants to pet his hair and reassure him. 

“You're really awesome at this,” Dick praises. “Someone as smart as you are shouldn't be as cute and kick-ass too. You really have all the best things.” Dick pauses, flipping his hair over his shoulder. “Except the hair, of course. I have the hair.” 

“And the ass, so I hear,” Tim adds in, deadpan enough that Dick starts to laugh and is rewarded with a quick, pretty smile from Tim. “Seriously,” Tim says after a moment. “These are great if used at the right dosages and during the correct situations. But I don't think any psychiatrist would ever let these amounts or these combinations leave their offices for one patient. If you're chasing someone who is self-medicating with these, it needs to be stopped. I can do more research, but I doubt I'll turn up much more than that it's going to be bad.”

“You have your own cases. I'll take care of it,” Dick says automatically. He's still caught up on Bruce having a file. Treatment plans for Jason. Had Jason known? But then he drifts to the words. _Self-medicating_. Is that what Jason is doing? “What side effects are we looking at for these? Nausea? Irritability? Disappearing for days? Tremors?”

“Those sound more like withdrawal symptoms all together,” Tim replies. “But maybe. Hard to say without the exact dosages and combinations. He pauses. “Dick, if you need me, I can leave without B even finding out.” 

That's surprising. That's something to use in the future. Dick shakes his head and forces a smile. “No. Thanks for the info, Timmy.” After a few more pleasantries he signs off, left with his own thoughts and a lot of silence. 

Jason needs him, he decides the next day. His words feel like a curse. Bruce's words feel like a curse to Jason. If he would get help. There was medication that could help. It's not like any of them can just walk into a doctor's office and be taken seriously. Jason probably doesn't have the resources for any mental help that specializes in vigilantes. 

“I expected you to be more busted up after you slammed through my wall,” Jason tells him grimly the next night. He hadn't even tried to run. Dick is cautious, scanning the warehouse for any enemies or other combatants, but Red Hood has cleared them all out. 

“Yeah, well, fortunately I went head first and I hear that's the hardest part of me,” Dick says with a shrug. “Are you willing to talk about what I found?”

Jason snorts, rolling his head backwards to look at Dick though the helmet, then nodding sharply. “I'm not a junkie,” He says defensively. 

“I never thought you were.”

“I did my research. Thought I could get back to...somewhere better, I guess. I'm not saying I actually needed any of it but don't we all want to be more functional? Happier?” He hops up onto one crate, looking into the lid of its broken companion instead of at Dick. “It didn't go so well so I'm cold turkey again. That was a shit show.” He pauses. “But I don't have to tell you that.” 

Dick had a front row seat to that particular show a few times. “You shouldn't stop some of that stuff cold turkey,” Dick points out. “You need to taper. You could have had a seizure or a heart attack or something.” 

“I did,” Jason answers. “Have a seizure, I mean. That's why you didn't see me for a few days. I wanted to be sure I wouldn't have another.” 

He talks so frankly about it. Like it's someone else. Dick expected him to be ashamed, and he is, but it's not the type Dick hoped to combat. Something inside him hurts at the idea of Jason alone and hurting and simply dealing with it all without reaching out. “If you want help,” He begins, edging toward Jason. 

“If that's help, I sure as fuck don't want it,” Jason retorts. He reaches into the crate and tosses Dick a teddy bear. Dick stares at it a minute before realizing the bear has white powder leaking out the seams. “Oldest trick in the book.” His hand is twitching a little. 

“Are you alright now?” Dick prompts. “You could find a combination that works for you, right? With someone who knows what they're doing? It's not like any of us have training in administering these drugs. You could try again.” 

Jason sighs and jumps back down. The fact that he's taller than Dick is still a little startling. “The side effects weren't worth it. There was no calm and no clarity. No understanding. Just nausea and dry mouth which is a disgusting combination. A headache and I completely lost my focus.” The helmet comes off with a little hiss. “Plus, I couldn't get hard. Nothing to improve your self worth like not even being able to get a stiffy.” 

Dick isn't sure why he's telling him this, but he also already has a deep suspicion. “We're having a serious conversation,” He scolds Jason when Jason rests a hand on his hip. “This isn't the time or the place.” 

“You know how you can keep an erection?” Jason asks like he hadn't heard Dick at all. It's like the beginning to a terrible joke, but he answers himself before Dick can come up with any type of witty response. “A cock ring.” 

Dick's glad he has on his mask because his eyes might be trying to bug out of his head. This conversation has been a roller coaster. “I'm glad you found something that works for you,” He says weakly. That's encouraging, isn't it?

“I bet,” Jason says. “It would work even better for you. Not that you have problems getting hard or staying that way,” He adds, like that might bruise Dick's ego. “But you know what else happens with a cock ring on?” He leans forward. His lips brush Dick's ear and Dick shivers. “You can't come.”

God, he's hard. Dick whimpers, but it's mostly in frustration at himself. He's better than this. There are bigger issues to focus on than Jason's newly returned libido and his sexual teasing and he's supposed to be better than all of this. He needs to be a better brother. He needs to be to Jason how he is to Tim. 

Except, Dick knows, Jason and Tim are very different people. They might have worn the same uniform but they've played very different roles in Dick's life. He can't return to being Jason's brother because he never really was to begin with. “Jason,” He protests, and that's when Jason seems to realize he's lost for the night. 

“Next time,” He tells Dick with a light butt of his head that stuns Dick, but isn't nearly as hard as it could be. “There are some bastards who need to learn what teddy bears are for tonight.” Teaching them that lesson is going to be a certain kind of primal pleasure. Jason's stung a little at Dick's refusal, but he gets it. They all treat him like he's a little bit of a wild animal who will never be fully tamed.

When Dick was studying Greek literature and drama, he always wondered how an act of celibacy or sexual lust could launch ships and start wars. He supposes he doesn't have to wonder any longer. Bludhaven is not going to be quiet tonight.

It's an agonizing week of work and rough cases. Of taking calls from Tim and dodging calls from Bruce and avoiding all the implications and consequences of his relationship with Jason. The stress builds and builds. Dick doesn't take anyone home for those kinds of activities. He's still kind enough not to dump his emotional baggage on someone else's sexual doorstep. 

At least not until he's back at Jason's. Back to the too-nice house and the room that looks lived in enough that Dick is actually starting to think Jason might spend the bulk of his time here. He sprawls out on the rug that has good memories, even if it had only narrowly protected him from being mashed to the floor. Jason assures him again that he's clean of any drugs before Dick lets him have a drink. He's also read a good deal about self medicating with alcohol but Jason stops after one glass. Even if that glass leaves Dick feeling loose and warm and comfortable. 

Jason had looked like Catwoman's protegee when Dick arrived; all satisfaction and none of the guilt or worry that plagues any of the children of the bat. Jason lounges on the floor with him for a while and they pick up as though their conversations hadn't lapsed for over a month. Then Jason rests a hand on the crotch of his jeans and Dick knows he's done for. At least this time he'd had the foresight not to wear Nightwing. It's the end of a night and he doesn't want to crawl home tomorrow morning in his uniform. 

“How do you do this to me?” Dick asks, stretching his arms above his head, letting Jason pet him. “I always think tonight we'll bond. Tonight we won't fuck. And then you fucking look at me and I'm about to jizz my pants.”

Jason grins. It looks so self-accomplished. There's some of that cocky Robin still left in him. “That's all on you, Dickiebird. I don't control how you react to me.” 

Dick scowls, because Jason is right. But Jason kisses that frown off his face and Dick is gasping soon enough when his pants are undone, and being pulled down his thighs. He lifts himself to give Jason access, and then he actually has to sit up to let him take his shirt off. It happens so fast that he barely has time to think and he certainly can't protest.

Naked again, sporting a semi, Jason still entirely dressed and playing him like he's a fiddle. God. Damn. It. This will not stand. 

Dick rolls to face Jason, all but crawling on top of him. His talent might be that he's like an invasive plant species. Jason pulls one part of him off and Dick has wedged himself more tightly against him somewhere else. At least he looks amused. “What are you doing?”

“I want to see you naked, Little Wing,” Dick says and wiggles his eyebrows because the situation is far too silly not to. “I know you like the power difference. I know you like how the clothes make you look but clothes do not make the man and I want to _see_ you.” 

Amusement turns to discomfort. It's not shame, Dick thinks, not of his body. It's something about exposure. He makes certain, as he strips Jason, that he's never left completely abandoned. Jason's shirt comes off first and Dick's hands run over him nearly instantly. His mouth follows, tracing each scar, catching on either of his nipples to graze them with his teeth. It makes Jason jerk a little, and Dick smirks at him. “Now it's my turn. Do you like that?”

Jason makes a noise that isn't affirmation or denial. Dick laps at the hollow of his collarbone. “I think you do,” He teases. “You're gorgeous, Jason. So fucking built. Solid muscle.” He's babbling out praises. He moves lower, nibbles at the edge of a hipbone. Worshiping Jason, familiarizing himself with his body in a way he hasn't been able to despite the fact he's had sex with Jason. That's still weird He pulls Jason's pants down, relieved to quickly be able to note that whatever side effects the drugs he'd been on were, they had gone now. Jason was definitely interested in what he was doing. 

But before he could get his mouth on that part of him, Jason nudges him away. “I haven't forgotten, pretty boy,” He says and Dick sees a ring in his fingers. The damn thing is red, is polished, gorgeous metal. Dick knows what it's for and he's twitching in anticipation. Jason's hand grips his cock, jerking him to full hardness and, amazingly, Jason steals a kiss this time. Dick is shocked enough that he hardly notices the way he slides the ring down his length. He jumps a little and Jason pauses in the kiss to look at him. “Alright?”

“Cold,” Dick answers with a little shiver. It feels different. Restricting, but not painful, and the fact that it's Jason putting it on makes it all the better. 

“Now,” Jason tells him, pushing him backward, getting him on his back once again. “We can really put you through your paces.”

Dick is half afraid of what that might mean, but he lets Jason kiss his forehead. It's tender and affectionate and just when Dick thinks it might mean something, Jason is slipping a blindfold over his eyes. “You fucker,” Dick says without real venom and is rewarded with a laugh. 

He feels fingers between his cheeks a moment later, slick and prodding at his entrance. Jason nudges his legs apart, nudges one up, and Dick obeys. He lets out a low moan as Jason's fingers finally slide inside him. Two. Just like Dick had started with during their last encounter, but Jason's fingers are so much thicker. “Careful,” He whispers, and he's not sure why. Jason is always careful with him. 

Jason seems to know it, too. “Why should I be careful?” The younger man asks, pressing his fingers deeper. “You're already so greedy for me. Your hole is already swallowing up my fingers. There's not a bit of resistance.” 

Of course that was a little bit of a lie. Jason is shivering at how much resistance there is. But he likes looking at Dick, blindfolded and panting, biting his lower lip and with his erection trapped, a ring of metal securing it.

“We're going to have fun tonight,” He murmurs to Dick, rocking his fingers inside him. He curls them, finds the place that makes Dick buck his hips and then he smirks. “I asked you if you like to feel like you're dying before you come. I guess we'll find out.” 

What follows is the most mind-blowing fingering that Dick has ever received. Jason makes him keep his hands above his head and he's left squirming, trying not to when that earns him a slap, and holding back the shameful sounds that keep escaping. He pushes his fingers deep inside Dick, finds the bundle of nerves in him and exploits it without mercy. He uses just enough pressure that Dick's cock drools precome onto his belly, twitching every time he's stimulated. The pressure builds and builds, coils like a snake in the pit of Dick's belly, and then it goes even higher. 

“Look how pink inside you are,” Jason breathes when he's scissored his fingers wide open at the rim of Dick's hole. He has the other arm pinning Dick's hips down, making his attempts to shy away mostly ineffective. “It figures you would even have a gorgeous asshole.” His fingers move in, still spread, and Dick lets out a ragged sound until Jason takes mercy on him. After that, the third finger is barely a stretch, but it certainly adds to the feeling of fullness inside Dick. “I bet I could fit my fist inside you.” 

Dick does protest at that, unable to see Jason's face and thus the fact he's teasing. “Ease up, Goldie. I wasn't serious,” Jason reassures him. The hand restraining him moves, skims over his aching cock, and Dick shudders. 

It's a particular kind of torture, being robbed of one of his senses. It makes Jason's touch all the more surprising and all the more intense. He can hear him move, but they're in close enough quarters that he can never pinpoint exactly what he's about to do until he's doing it. “You want to come?” Jason asks. Dick nods, eager, chasing after the sensation of his hand. “Too bad.”

“You _suck_ ,” Dick groans. “You fucking suck, man.” He's harder than he thinks he's ever been in his life. The only relief he's getting is when Jason fucking milks his prostate. He's wound tight enough to go off at the drop of a pin. 

“You love it,” Jason replies. Is that his breath on his dick? He writhes, resisting the urge to even try to push into his mouth. Jason has some clear hang ups about that and the fact that he's even that close is amazing. “You love being used like this. You love being helpless. Displaying yourself for me. For whatever I want to do.”

Jason has him pegged. Dick can't argue, can only plead with his body. There's a sheen of sweat over him within ten minutes, and by the time Dick is sure they've hit the half hour mark, he's flushed and willing to bet his pupils would be completely blown out with need. 

Jason urges him to roll onto his knees, to tuck them up under him. “I don't normally like sloppy seconds,” Jason says. “But I'll make an exception.” He feels Jason's mouth on his spine, moving down, and then? Then?

Dick's brain short circuits and he might black out for a second because that's Jason's goddamn mouth on his ass. That's a tongue making quick little swipes over his gaping, eager hole that has three fingers currently stuffed into it. Jason is rimming him and Dick actually squeals, in shock and pleasure and oh he fucking wishes he could see it. 

“Easy,” Jason says with a laugh, pressed against him. “If you even so much as bump me I'm leaving you on the floor like this.” 

His thighs shake with the effort to hold still. Jason licks around his fingers, drifts down to the patch of skin before his balls and circles there and Dick would have come a million times over if not for that stupid ring around his dick. 

It's over too quickly. Jason slaps his ass at the whimper of loss he makes. “Selfish. Don't you want to meet my needs, too?”

He pulls away enough that Dick thinks he's getting a condom and getting ready to fuck him. He's pleased with that idea, really, and that's not just thinking with his currently ringed erection. 

But what presses into him isn't flesh. It's about the same size as Jason, maybe a little smaller. It's ridged and flexible and when, during this wild month, did Jason Todd find time to buy a dildo? “That can't be your need,” Dick breathes out, voice a little shaky. “Aah-fuck that's good.” It sits just so inside him, and Jason pushes it even deeper. 

Jason moves again. Dick knows what's coming and he lifts up, enough for Jason to slide a bit underneath him. His cock nudges at Dick's mouth, his hand comes to thread through Dick's hair. “Do a good job.”

Dick has the inspiration to do exactly that. He starts with licks from the base to the tip. Jason's rock hard, like he's been that way for a while. Dick takes his revenge in the form of teasing Jason. He laps at the head of him, tip of his tongue circling around. He mouths over his length until Jason lifts his hips demandingly. “Can't take what you're dishing out?”

Jason pulls his hair. Dick tightens on the toy inside him, feels a throb of empathy in his penis. He takes Jason fully into his mouth, relaxing his throat, simply feeling. This is what he's been missing. He wonders if you can have an addiction to sucking cock. If so, he's certain he does. He lets Jason guide his motions, putting his own flare on it. He breathes in Jason's scent, his own hips fucking the air, trying to get some stimulation. His body doesn't understand the ring constraining him or that something is filling him without moving at all. 

He does spare a thought for how he might look. Sweating, humping the air, sucking Jason's cock, with his own hard and flushed between his thighs. He hopes Jason's enjoying the sight. “So good, pretty bird,” He says raggedly. “So good I'm going to shoot down your pretty throat.”

There's a brief struggle as Dick tries to pull off and Jason's hand tries to force him back down, which Dick takes as a testament to his oral skills rather than Jason trying to control him. “You're not going to fuck me?” He demands.

Jason _laughs_. Oh God, does he laugh. It leaves Dick feeling hot and embarrassed and he wishes he could just look at Jason's face, read his emotions. “Oh sweetheart,” Jason croons to him. “Are you that desperate? Your hot little ass gets a taste and now your thirst for cock can't be quenched?”

Put that way, it makes Dick lower his head. Try to lower his head. He ends up with his mouth against Jason's balls, instead. Jason nudges his head back up. “It's nothing personal. You're still hot shit. I've just got shit of my own to work out before I fuck you again. You get me?”

As though his ego is bruised by this. Dick huffs, rocking his hips, making his erection bob freely around and startling another noise out of him. The head of Jason's erection is back against his lips. “Now,” Jason repeats. “I'm going to fuck your throat and come down it. Open up.” 

Dick obeys. God, but does he love to obey. Jason makes good on his word, prick sliding further down his throat. Enough to make Dick choke. Enough that his moans vibrate around it and that makes Jason moan, loud enough for Dick to hear him. It makes Dick feel oddly proud. 

Both hands come up to grip his hair and still his head. Jason thrusts up with enough force to hurt, twice, then comes. Dick swallows compulsively, flesh still far enough back that he's swallowing around it and it drags Jason's orgasm out even longer. Everything is hot salt and darkness and Dick barely remembers to breathe at all, let alone through his nose. 

He's still swallowing as Jason pulls out. “Good boy,” Jason says. “Lick me clean.” And his tone suggests he knows that Dick wasn't planning to do that, it just sort of happened. “Now do you want your reward?”

He does. Dick really, really does. He's trembling with want, shaking with it. He's fucking himself on nothing, into nothing, hoping for any kind of stray affection Jason will throw his way. “Do you feel like you're dying yet?” Jason asks as he moves back behind Dick. “How many times would you have come if it wasn't for the ring?”

Dick whines, because Jason suddenly wants him to form words, but he at least has an answer. “Five.” He's counted. Counted five horrifying moments of teetering on the edge and being unable to tip over. 

“Next time,” Jason breathes. “We'll get you a special one. Teach you how to come dry.” He's planning a next time. Dick's not sure his heart or his body can take it. “But for now?”

He removes the plug. Dick is sorry for the loss until he has Jason's fingers back inside him. “Roll over.” Like he's a dog, but Dick learns this trick as well. On his back, legs spread, cock so hard that he's a little worried about priapism. 

And Jason fingering him. “You never touch my cock,” Dick breathes, deciding it's not a pleading whine. “Never jerk me off. Just when you're fucking me.”

“Mm,” Jason agrees. “I was hoping you didn't notice that.” His fingers do touch his cock, then. They drift down to the ring and undo a latch and Dick almost screams with the feeling of it. It's torture. It's pleasure. It brings every aborted orgasm from the past hour rushing forward. “But when I'm fucking you isn't never.”

Jason's hand closes around his erection and that's it. It's over. Dick comes and it does feel a little like dying. It's all pleasure, burning through his nerves, flowing out the tip of his cock. His balls clench so tight to the base of his length that it's painful. He claws at the ground and grabs blindly for Jason even as he clenches so tight around his fingers that it aches. “Fuck, Dick,” Jason says. 

His name on Jason's lips is the last thing he hears. 

He only loses a minute or two of time, but it's still totally unsettling when he's suddenly opening his eyes and there's no blindfold, just Jason's face hovering in his vision. He looks concerned. “Did you just pass out on me?” Jason demands. 

Dick blinks, wiggling fingers and toes to be sure everything is still in working order. “I don't know. Did I?”

Jason sighs and hauls him to a sitting position, an arm around his waist. It's intimate and affectionate and Dick rolls his head onto Jason's shoulder. Jason makes a face. “We are not having a snuggle session. I'm trying to make sure you don't have brain damage. Can you stand up?”

“I can,” Dick confirms. “But I don't want to.” He flops back down to the rug, taking Jason with him. Jason just sighs as Dick once more crawls on him, situating himself like he has all the power. 

“How long do I have to stay?” Jason questions him. He sounds like he's contemplating gnawing off a limb to escape. 

“Just until I can actually come down from this and let myself out,” Dick confirms. He's still shaking a little bit, tremors going through his muscles. But it feels...good. Again. Jason always makes him feel good. 

They lie in silence for a while until Jason's discomfort becomes too much and Dick rolls off him. Jason goes for his clothing almost at once and Dick doesn't say anything as he gets dressed. “You did a good job,” Jason compliments him with awkwardness. “I mean except for the passing out. That was stupid.” 

Dick smiles and shakes his head. “We really do need to talk, Little Wing. Seriously talk. No erections involved at all.” They can't fix all their problems with a bout of kinky sex, no matter how much better Dick feels afterward. It isn't teaching Jason great coping skills. It's not teaching Dick great coping skills and he wasn't a walking drug lab to try to deal with his issues. 

“Rain check,” Jason replies and it's in the most gentle tone Dick has heard him use. It seems to surprise Jason as well that he's not screaming. That this hasn't all fallen to shit really quickly as expected.

It's the best offer he's going to get. Dick rolls to his feet and is pleased to note that Jason at least cleaned him up this time. He wishes he hadn't picked pants with a button because he has trouble with that, but he's dressed quickly enough. There's no offer to stay the night...or the day, since Dick is sure it's morning by now. 

“Take care of yourself,” Dick says, and means it more than usual. Jason dodges the attempt to kiss him on the mouth so Dick settles for a quick hug. “See you tonight?”

Jason gives him a knowing, critical look. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

Dick tilts his head. “No? Are you forgetting to tell me something?”

Jason sighs. “Forget it.” He lightly punches him on the shoulder. “Later.”

Dick makes it home in a haze of endorphins and the realization his ass is actually really sore. He unlocks his apartment, tossing his keys in their designated dish and stripping off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch. 

And onto a sleeping Tim Drake. 

Is this the something Jason meant?

“Hi,” Tim says, yawning, stretching bare toes out the end of a blanket he's helped himself to. “You weren't out patrolling so I just waited here for you. You don't mind, do you?”

Dick needs a shower before he gets anywhere near his younger brother. “Of course not,” He says with forced cheer. He is happy to see Tim. Just not at this exact moment. “Why don't you go get in bed?” He asks. “I'm going to clean up and then see if I can catch a nap.”

Tim nods sleepily and Dick hovers, trying to make sure he gets to the bed without completely falling over. He wonders how Jason knew he was here, and if Jason is watching even now. “What are you doing here?” He asks Tim gently. 

Tim blinks at him. There are dark circles under his eyes. “Haven't seen you in a while,” He admits. “I thought I could help with your friend and the pills.” 

Tim has such a big heart. He tries so hard. It makes Dick hurt for him, sometimes, because this is the kind of life that destroys that goodness in people. “We'll hang out,” Dick promises. “And when you're awake again? I'm making French toast.” Tim scrunches up his face and Dick tries not to take it as an insult to his cooking skills. He spends way too long watching Tim fall asleep.


End file.
